Rose in Bloom
by doggypal
Summary: Arashi takes an evening off. Sorata joins her.


_A/N: This is a re-posting of the fic I originally put up several months ago. Worked on it and edited it quite a bit, so well, here it is.  
---_

**Rose in Bloom**

After a meeting with the rest of the Dragons, she always had a hard time deciding whom to walk home with. Sorata, of course, ended up walking her back. She hoped to be able to have Yuzuriha's bubbly company on the way home, but the girl had run off with a sly wink, promising to be home earlier. Earlier than them, that was. Arashi flushed red at her words and Sorata had the nerve to laugh.

"You know, it never hurts to let her be right sometimes," he whispered infuriatingly in her ear.

Arashi stalked off, leaving a wounded Sorata in her wake massaging his bruised jaw. She fully intended to go home. There was work to be done and lessons to prepare for the next day. However, on an impulse, she decided not to. Why not, she told herself, take some time to properly enjoy Tokyo while it still stood?

"Sorata-kun," she said. "You go ahead. I'm not going home yet."

"Eh? I'm coming along with you. Where Nee-chan goes, I follow."

She wanted to make a cutting retort, but decided to let him for once. She simply nodded and walked on.

There was a street fair that was on in the evening. The pair walked down the booths in silence. Arashi was content that her companion was quiet for once. Like her, he was taking in the street scene – the aroma of food cooking, the sight of people gathered around a booth, the air that was cool despite the bustle. This was transitory – such joy would soon disappear if they failed to protect Tokyo. She felt a shadow creep over the peace that she was feeling.

It was getting dark and they would have a quick dinner before returning home. Arashi went to a booth to buy food and Sorata disappeared, promising to get them drinks.

She sighted him instead at a florist's nearby.

"Here! A rose for one with its beauty," he beamed. She felt herself going as red as the flower that he held in front of her. Would he never fail to embarrass her?

"No." Unsmiling, she shoved Sorata's dinner into his free hand and strode quickly out of the shop, back into the busy street where bright lights would hide her flushed face and noise the sound of her racing heart.

"Nee-chan!" Sorata entreated, hurrying after her.

She found a more secluded spot where she could calm down and collect her thoughts. Studiously ignoring the man beside her who was giving her beseeching looks, Arashi ate her food and stared straight ahead. It was hard to see, sitting under the glare of streetlights.

"Nee-chan…"

"What happened to the drinks?" She refused to cut him any slack.

"Ah…"

Arashi swiftly checked a grin that threatened to reveal itself.

"I expected it," she said simply and handed him a can of drink.

He smiled and sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "You were done before I could buy the drinks. Thank you."

They ate in silence. At length, Sorata spoke.

"You never told me about your childhood."

"You didn't, either," she replied. She felt her familiar defences coming up, but this night out was as much an impulse as what she had done in letting him follow her.

After a moment, she told him. As she returned to memories of her childhood days, she reflected on how her experiences had made her into what she presently was. The loneliness and lack of will to live after her mother passed away, the hunger, the life spent on the streets living among rubbish had never really gone away, she realised with a start. There had been no one there, then, to help her, and she had closed herself off from the outside world. Even after she entered the Shrine, the love and warmth she found there had not changed her completely. She did not want to depend on someone too entirely to have to lose that person like she did her mother.

She did not want to love.

And so. She was like a thorn-covered rose – she cut the hand of the one who tried to reach out and discover what she was inside.

There was a strange look in Sorata's eyes when she stopped talking. Perhaps it was the streetlights, she thought.

"It must have been hard for you, living like that," he said quietly.

Arashi inclined her head. "I survived."

He suddenly grinned. "Of course. You're still eating now. What are you living for? Me?"

She glared at him. "I think I have more to live for than someone as frivolous as you. Such as saving the world, for a start."

A thorn. It succeeded in wiping away the laughter from his eyes.

Arashi immediately felt sorry. He was just trying to be funny, as was usual. She did not apologise, though, but instead asked, "How about you? What were your childhood days like?"

It brought them past that moment. He smiled again and his eyes glittered. "Oh, they were fun. I was irrepressible those days."

"You still are now," she dryly replied. He laughed.

Memories, she thought, can do so much in shaping one's life and character. As he told her about his own time in the temple, Arashi began to understand him better, and the prophecy, and hence the doom, that was woven into his life.

"So you see, I told Ojii-san that if I had to die for a woman, she had to be really beautiful." He paused and grinned impishly. "Like you."

Turning away so he would not see the fierce blush creeping up her face, Arashi said, "It might not always be so. We can change our own fates."

"Perhaps," he replied, "but I would not change mine."

She looked back at him, face devoid of expression. Face serious, eyes locked on hers, he said, "It seems foolish of me, doesn't it? But from the moment I saw you, I knew that I would die for you."

"There are pretty ladies aplenty. Why me?"

"It is not just because you are beautiful, don't you see? I could never die for someone who is simply just another pretty face. It's about what really matters, too, and I see that in you. I love you. Do you not know it?" Perhaps it was the streetlights again, but his eyes were glowing with a strange emotion she did not know.

What she did know was that his words were true; she knew they were true every single time he teased her. Hidden behind the frivolity was a person with a soul as deep and intense as hers was, a person who knew people better than they did themselves. A beautiful soul, she had discovered, and one that wanted to be her own soul's mate. A person close to perfection, and one who wanted to be her love, her sacrifice.

But what she had become would not allow it. She had survived alone, and her pride would not suffer her to let someone else to die in her place. An image of her dying mother flashed in her mind, and she began to make sense of what lay in her heart.

She did not want to lose him.

And so.

Arashi looked at her watch. "It's getting late. We'd better go home."

Beside her, Sorata gave an almost inaudible sigh. "Yes, I suppose."

When they reached home, Yuzuriha looked at them from where she was watching television and yawned exaggeratedly.

"I thought you two would never get home. Kamui is already sleeping."

Arashi smiled wryly. "What are you doing up so late?"

Yuzuriha snorted. "Glad you know it's late. Good night!" Leaping out of the couch, she ran into her room and closed the door.

Sorata turned to her and said, "It's late. Get some rest now. Good night." He smiled lightly at her, but his eyes were sad.

He had always seen her for what she was, and more. While he often teased her about being so cold, he also knew what defined her, what shaped her life. He could see that she was a rose, and in more than just beauty. He had tried to reach her, to touch her heart, but she had always cut him with her thorns. And he had the capacity to love without fearing hurt or loss.

As he headed for the stairs, Arashi realised that Sorata was still holding the rose.

She was like a rose before its bloom – she had closed herself up so she would not allow anyone to see what fragile beauty lay beneath her ice-cool exterior.

Even so…

Arashi walked over to him and took the rose from his hand. It was starting to bloom.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled.


End file.
